


Something Old, Something New

by tempus_teapot (dreadnot)



Category: Dragon Age
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-04
Updated: 2011-05-04
Packaged: 2017-10-19 07:46:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/198550
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/dreadnot/pseuds/tempus_teapot
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders wears something special to Aveline's wedding.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Something Old, Something New

“Relax, Hawke, he’ll be here.”

Marion fidgeted with her gown and nodded down at Varric. “I know. He wouldn’t stand me up for a date to Aveline’s wedding, but he’s _late.”_

Anders was late, she was wearing some _thing_ with ruffles because that was what Aveline had chosen for her maid of honor, and all she had wanted was for the man she loved to keep her from wanting to sink through the floor in embarrassment. She was the woman who had killed the Arishok in single combat, she should be able to manage one overly-frilly gown for an afternoon. Aveline had even promised her that she could change into something less… _overwrought_ for the gathering after the ceremony.

“Maybe he decided he didn’t want to support the Chantry even this much. Maybe he was jumped by Carta thugs, maybe—”

“He’s here,” Isabela chimed in. And Maker’s breath, by the way, how did she manage to make the ruffles and frills look sexy when Marian just looked like an Orlesian pastry?

She followed Isabela’s gaze to see Anders’ light gold hair. He was threading his way through the gathering to the front of the nave where the wedding party was gathered.

Marian’s expression unlocked, the worry and embarrassment sliding away in the simple pleasure of seeing that he had followed through on his promise of coming despite his commitments at the clinic.

“She’s got it bad,” Isabela remarked, seeing Marian smile for the first time since putting on the dress.

“Yep,” Varric confirmed. “She has fallen for him harder than a golem off a cliff.”

“Would you two st—” And then Anders made it through the last of the throng to the foot of the stairs where Marian and her friends were standing and she got her first look at his idea of formal wear.

“Sweet Andraste,” she gasped while Varric let out a low whistle.

“I remember that robe!” Isabela crowed. “You used to wear it— _Ow!”_ She rubbed her backside where Varric had pinched her.

He shook his head up at her and jerked his chin toward Marian, who stood transfixed by the sight of Anders in his Tevinter-style robe.

Isabela reached over and closed her open mouth with two fingers under her chin. “You’ll be drooling next, Hawke.”

“What?” Marian couldn’t tear her eyes off of Anders, or more particularly the way the robe covered every part of his body except his bare arms and two open patches on his chest. Her fingers twitched with the need to _touch_.

“I think she approves,” Anders observed, holding out his hands to Marian when he reached her. “That’s approval isn’t it, Sweetheart?”

“Uh….” She grabbed one of his hands and started pulling him up the stairs.

“She approves,” Varric confirmed.

“Don’t mess up her dress,” Isabela advised as the pair retreated upstairs. “Aveline will murder you on the Chantry floor.”

“She won’t murder him. She isn’t going to murder someone on her wedding day. She’ll just maim him.” Marian faintly heard Varric say before they were out of earshot.

She pulled Anders into the second floor storage closet and pushed him against the wall. She might be wearing ruffles and frills and one ridiculously girly gown, but she was still the woman who had defeated the Arishok in single combat, and when she pushed, Anders _went._

And he went with that smug look plastered on his face.

“Did you want something?” he asked innocently.

“Did I want….” She was unable to look away from the bare patches of exposed chest. Why was she so transfixed? It didn’t even show his nipples.

Oh, but if she…. Yes, she could just dip her tongue under the fabric and brush it over his nipple. She could feel it harden immediately, so she repeated the action on the other side.

Anders let his head fall back against the wall and cradled the back of her head with one hand. “Mari, that’s not fair.”

“Not fair?” She was tempted to nip his bare pectoral and leave a faint bite mark there for the other wedding guests to stare at. “You wear _this_ to Aveline’s wedding and tell me that a little taste isn’t fair? Maker’s breath, Anders, how am I supposed to focus when you’ll be there looking all… all…”

“All what?”

“Delicious!” she almost yelled before covering her mouth with her hand.

“Delicious,” she said again in a more normal tone. “This has some kind of magic to it, doesn’t it? Because I’ve seen you naked and your chest is marvelous, but I don’t usually want to _stare_ at it like this.”

She covered the bare areas with her hands and marveled at how warm his skin was before she dipped her thumbs under the cloth to brush his nipples.

“No magic,” he assured her, starting to sound a little strained. “But I could show you a bit of magic if you want me to—”

Whatever proposition he was going to make was interrupted by a rap at the door and Isabela’s unapologetic apology. “Sorry, lovebirds, but the wedding’s starting. Pull up your knickers, tuck your bits away, and get out here.”

Marian rose on her toes to give Anders one long, toe-curling kiss before stepping back to straighten her dress and fling the door open.

“When we get home,” she promised before leaving Anders to rearrange himself and follow her down to the Chantry floor.


End file.
